Unseen Enemy
by NewEnglandFan
Summary: Sheppard, his lover Dr. Lydia McKenzie (OFC from "Aftermath") and a science team are trapped by something horrific. If they can't stop it, then Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy are in terrible danger. COMPLETE. Suggestive language, a few curses, some violence and torture. Nothing sexually explicit. Chapter 5 rewritten (same basic ending though) Nov 11.
1. Ch 1-The Colonel and the Astrobiologist

**Unseen Enemy**

**Chapter 1: The Colonel and the Astrobiologist**

"Ow! I wasn't ready for that one."

"Lydia, in the real world, the bad guy does not yell, 'Hey, get ready, I'm about to hit you over the head with a club.' Now, get up, dust off your cute backside and let's start again."

"Why did I let you talk me into this?" Sheppard just gave her that boyish grin she could never resist.

John and Lydia were together in the gym, early in the morning. He had offered to teach her some self-defense tactics. Even though such training was available to all Atlantis personnel through formal instruction, and even though Lydia already had some experience, John had felt he should offer her some, let's say, more 'individualized' private lessons. They had been having sessions for a few weeks now; John was impressed by her talent and progress, but he wasn't about to tell Lydia that, not just yet. If he was stingy with praise, then she would work harder and become more proficient. It certainly wasn't because he enjoyed teasing her, certainly not because she looked incredibly sexy in her tight workout clothes, all sweaty and with her wavy red hair hopelessly uncontrolled by a ponytail, and certainly not because of how cute she looked when she got mad at him for knocking her down for the umpteenth time.

As Lydia got back on her feet, the door to the gym slid open. Turning at the sound, John was surprised to see Teyla enter.

"Oh, I am sorry, John, Lydia, I did not think this room was in use. No one's name was on the sign-up sheet."

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that," John replied. "Lydia and I were up anyways and I figured we'd grab a chance to get in a workout." Well, another kind of workout. They'd been up early for something besides breakfast. John gave a sideways glance at Lydia and then found himself unexpectedly blushing, like he'd been caught doing something wrong by his parents. Huh? But as Teyla gave him that all-too familiar arch of her eyebrow, he understood. Teyla was imposing, and observant, and…her opinion and approval mattered to him, no matter how confident he himself felt in his relationship with Lydia.

"No matter. I see there are many other slots available today. I'll come back later," Teyla replied, apparently gifting Sheppard with a quick exit. "But," she added, not able to help herself: John seemed about ready to push her out the door, "Lydia, if you ever consider learning it, I would be happy to introduce you to the art of the bantos rods. The Colonel is becoming quite good at it." Lydia smiled at Teyla's gentle dig. There were times when John did deserve to be knocked down a peg.

John straightened up, and gave a look of mock offense to both women. "_Becoming_ good? And, what's wrong with what _I'm_ teaching Lydia?" he countered, but his hazel eyes belied his good humor. Teyla and Lydia then exchanged a look, one that said to John, 'you're getting ganged up on, Women: One, Sheppard: Zero.' He decided to cut his losses and change the topic.

Grabbing his gear, John gave a 'you win' smile to Teyla and turned to give Lydia a quick kiss goodbye. "Seems like a good time to get back to work. I'll see you later for mission prep."

"What mission prep?" Lydia looked puzzled. "_I'm_ going away for a few days to MM1-864, for a combination meet-and-greet/science expedition. Where are you going?"

"Same planet, same reasons."

"Wait a minute. You just said yesterday that you don't have a mission until next week."

"I did, but I got Lorne to swap with me." John was up to something, Lydia was sure of it.

"Why?"

If Teyla wasn't still with them in the gym – would she ever leave? – John would have answered, "Because I want to make love to you in the Jumper while everyone's off exploring the planet," but instead he said, "Because that mission is supposed to take a few days, and I don't want to be away from you all that time, and because, damn it, I'm military commander around here and I can throw my weight around and get missions reassigned so that I can be with my…erm, uh…girlfriend." There, he managed to get it out, with breath left to spare. Lydia suppressed a grin and choked down a giggle. Teyla looked at John, thinking it was about time he said those words out loud, and in front of other people. Then, to John's great relief, she left them alone.

Lydia did her best to put on a serious face. "Well, OK, I guess I'll see you in the Gate Room at 1400 hours. I'll be doing prep work in the lab until then, with some of my colleagues. Lots of kits to prepare, for biological, entomological and botanical samplings. Supposedly, MM1-864 is a gold mine for us PhD types. Now remember, you just said you don't want to be away from me, so I hope you're willing to help out! Lots of kneeling in the dirt to collect plants, and lay traps for small animals, and set up insect collection nets!"

John took a minute to answer; it was slowly dawning on him what 'fun' science stuff he was getting himself into. "Well, uh, I really think I'd be better at…looking handsome while standing guard against…" Lydia, laughing, cut him off "…a hoard of rabid mice that might attack us? A swarm of killer bees?"

"Ha, ha, good one, yeah, that's good. But you just remember who can fly you the hell out of there if you _**are**_ being chased by alien monsters." Lydia nodded in agreement; John _was_ an outstanding pilot, in any galaxy.

"And speaking of flying," John added, "It's too bad MM1-864 has to be reached by Jumper and not via a Gate. I mean, we located a Space Gate that gets us somewhat near the planet, but it'll still take us 9 hours to get there."

Lydia sympathized. "Yes, I was really disappointed when our Gate couldn't lock onto MM1-864's."

"Well," John continued, "according to the Ancient database, the planet had an active Gate and a fairly thriving population. Granted, that entry hasn't been updated in 10,000 years, but Teyla and Ronon recognized the name of these people – the Mirin – and they think they were friendly trading partners at least within recent memory."

"Dr. McKay said the Gate might still be there, but out of order for some reason, maybe due to a natural disaster or mechanical failure, or even a war. A lot can happen in 10,000 years." Lydia's voice trailed off.

"Including a Wraith invasion…"

"John Sheppard," Lydia chastised, "you know full well that we sent out an unmanned drone to scan the planet. Nothing there looked alarming, just humanoid life forms, various animal and plant life, etcetera, etcetera. I'm an astrobiologist; I think you can trust my expert opinion on this."

"And," she added, feeling suddenly mischievous, "I don't think you would let me go there if you thought there was the remotest chance of running into any Wraith."

"Well, Dr. McKenzie, isn't that a sexist comment! John said with a sly grin. "Would you _really_ want me to interfere with your ability to do your job? Are you saying you want my _permission_ to go?" His eyes were twinkling. He loved to draw her into a good bout of bantering, but he also knew that Lydia had set him up. He leaned over and pulled her to him, his arm firmly encircling her waist.

Lydia leaned into John's chest, enjoying the warmth and ease he projected. At 5' 4", she was petite enough to nestle her head against his chin. "In any other situation, I'd smack you and any other guy – maybe even Mr. Woolsey – if they tried to tell me what mission I could or could not go on, because of my sex. But, as you say, you're the military commander and you can throw your weight around. And I definitely am in favor of a boyfriend who can give me inside info on dangerous planets and keep me the hell away from them."

John wasn't quite ready to end their animated 'back-and-forth.' "You know, you _did_ choose to come to Atlantis and explore another galaxy and strange planets. You knew in advance it could be dangerous – deadly even. You're not scared or anything, right?" he teased.

Lydia gently pulled herself from his arms and beamed up at him. "I'll always still need the handsome guy with an automatic rifle protecting me."

With a boyish smile, John kissed her on the forehead and walked out the door while Lydia…eyed his butt appreciatively. As she prepared to leave as well, she found herself musing yet again about how much better things were now between them.

It was several months since John had been rescued from Earth. He had fully recovered from his physical injuries and seemed to be managing better emotionally, too. After he had miraculously saved Teyla's life after the debacle at the Ancient lab, something had returned to him – hope, confidence, a sense of purpose? Lydia couldn't quite define the reason why, but she knew John was happier than she had ever known him to be. And, he was no longer leaving their bed to walk alone at night through the City, running away from his demons. Mind you, he hadn't become Mr. Talkative Guy who always wanted to share feelings – and she was sure he never would be – but the desperation she had felt in him before, his painful need to literally cling to her when they slept together – all of that was gone now. Their relationship had finally reached the 'normal' stage, but even better. Slowly but surely, John and Lydia were rediscovering what had attracted them to each other in the first place months ago, when they were at the flirting, bump-into-you-by–accident stage. They were attractive, smart and athletic. Each had a great sense of humor and a healthy streak of non-conformity. Lydia knew they were a good match, and she was pretty sure John felt the same way. Which made her very happy.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooo

_**Many**__** hours later, in space…**_

"Oh, thank God!" exclaimed Rodney, as the Jumper entered the orbit of MM1-864 and engaged the cloaking device. "I don't think I could have sat on one of these seats for much longer. The Ancients were good at a lot of things, but chairs, not so much."

"Well, McKay," drawled John. "I'm glad you're glad. Now make sure you get that Gate operational, because I don't want to spend another 9 hours on a return trip having to listen to you!"

"Sheppard, do you doubt my technical expertise?" McKay's hackles were raised. "I'll have you know that, in just the past year alone, I single-handedly fixed…"

"I'll take your word for it, Rodney." John had learned from painful experience to cut McKay off _fast_ when he started in on a rant. "Just live up to your genius reputation and get it fixed before dark! None of us wants to spend an overnight here, unless you like camping out under the stars."

"I do," piped up Lydia impishly, taking a chance at flirting while surrounded by co-workers. She could sense John's amused smirk even though his back was turned.

"Well, I don't," countered McKay. "You outdoorsy types can revel in the bugs and the damp and all those rocks digging into your back…"

"I'll take that as a "Yes, _sir_, Colonel, _sir_, we'll all be home for dinner." McKay harrumphed in reply; he'd eat an orange before he'd ever call Sheppard 'Sir.' "Ah, here we go," John declared. "That clearing looks like a good spot to set us down. From the life sign scans, I think we're far enough away from the main settlement that was detected in the earlier recon. Hopefully, we won't be noticed when we disembark, or during our trek to the village." He quickly added, "And, I don't want to hear it, McKay; you knew from the briefing on Atlantis that we'd have to walk a ways."

Sheppard was ferrying a fairly large expedition on this mission. He, Dr. McKay and Dr. McKenzie were accompanied by a botanist, an entomologist, two Marines for security purposes, and a young lieutenant who would be a back-up pilot in case anything happened to Sheppard or McKay. Not that they expected anything to go wrong.

MM1-864 was, as Lydia had said that morning, a dream planet for science geeks. Volcanically-derived soil, temperate weather, and a variety of geographic features had created a near-perfect environment for a thriving population of flora and fauna. The human inhabitants were blessed to have such a hospitable planet to live on (as long as you ignored the possibility of Wraith attack, which unfortunately threatened most planets in the galaxy). Teyla and Ronon had briefed Woolsey and Sheppard on what little they knew. MM1-864 had been trading with its Pegasus neighbors until about 50 or 60 years ago, at which point their "Ring of the Ancestors" had inexplicably stopped working. Prior to that time, the population – the Mirin – had been known for their excellent crops and other agricultural products such as lumber, rope, basketry, herbal concoctions, and the like. This reputation was echoed by the records (albeit 10,000 years out of date) in the Ancient database. From a practical rather than scientific standpoint, the planet, in addition to being a scientific bonanza, could be a valuable source of fresh food, for which the citizens of Atlantis were always clamoring.

Sheppard landed the Jumper with just a slight bump – for which McKay and his chair-numbed backside were very grateful. "OK, everybody, let's gear up," ordered John. "And remember, you do not need to take most of your equipment with you now. We need to meet the locals first before you start crawling all over the place running tests and experiments and what-not." Sheppard got a glare from Lydia with that comment – 'don't you _dare_ piss off us science geeks', she was clearly saying.

Sheppard was starting to regret swapping missions with Lorne. But it was way too late now! Feigning enthusiasm, he headed purposefully down the Jumper's gangway. "Another 'meet-and-greet', people, my favorite kind of mission. Let's do it right."

_**TBC….. OK, every story needs a "set the stage" chapter, and this is it. More plot developments, angst and team 'whumping' to follow over the next several days. Please read and review; I especially would like to hear what you think of Lydia. I've never written a story with a romantic interest as a **__**main**__** character. Thanks!**_


	2. Chapter 2 - The Lure

**Unseen Enemy**

**Chapter 2 – The Lure**

_**The Mirin village…**_

It was a sunny day, warm and humid with few clouds. The walk was nice – even McKay liked it. Sheppard didn't let his group get too relaxed, though. During what would be about a 30 minute walk to the village, he didn't want anyone letting their guard down. He made sure that the team travelled in a typical formation: a Marine and the young lieutenant in the back, the four scientists in the middle, and Sheppard and another Marine in the lead. One could never be too careful. Now granted, most of the time missions weren't much more than exercises in diplomacy, business or scientific study. The trouble Sheppard's team (and others – the Colonel's team wasn't the only one with bad luck) got into was actually more the exception than the rule. Usually, Atlantis teams could count on interesting, but ordinary expeditions with few mishaps.

And that's exactly what Sheppard was hoping for – normal. Boring would be good, too – more time for him to hang around with, er…diligently stand guard over…Lydia and the others. He probably had gone overboard with the whole 'throwing his weight around' thing, though. It had cost him dearly. In order to get Lorne to swap missions, John had had to promise him two six-packs of Sam Adams along with a carton of frozen mini pepperoni pizzas. (Sheppard's original mission was to a planet where the daily _high_ was 42 degrees Fahrenheit.) More seriously, Sheppard knew that being in a personal relationship with someone you worked with had pitfalls. In Pegasus, those 'pitfalls' could be unpleasant, to say the least. John promised himself right then and there to keep Lydia off his team whenever possible in the future. It wasn't worth the risk.

They were about 10 minutes out from the village when Sheppard got his first uneasy feeling of the day. Before that, everything had seemed OK. Aerial scans indicated a few hundred people living in a sprawling settlement of homes, barns, and larger structures that might be meant for village gatherings or government. Small garden plots were scattered amongst the houses, and several acres of crops surrounded the community. There was an abundance of plant life: in addition to crops, the land was lush with flowers, shrubbery, grasses and trees.

Maybe it was due to his years of experience as a soldier; maybe it was his gene. Because, even though on the surface it looked great, the closer John got the more he felt like something was going on behind the scenes, something unusual and not necessarily good. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, though. He had detected…a noise, an undercurrent of sound, of vibration, that he felt more than heard, moving beneath the breezy rustling of leaves and the calls of animals and birds. There was also an odor – cooking? Or the pungent aromas that were present on any farm? What the heck _was_ it? Certain sounds and scents coming from the village seemed familiar, but were maddeningly unexplainable. It was all a little unnerving.

Dropping back, Sheppard brought himself in step with Lydia. "Do you, uh, notice anything?"

"Like what?" Lydia replied, momentarily caught off-guard that John was speaking to her. He had been in 'military mode' since they started walking and hadn't really been talkative.

"Like…off. Unusual. Not right." Exasperated, he tried again. "You're the biologist – have you noticed any sounds, anything in the air that seems weird? Sorry, it's hard for me to describe..."

"Um, no, I haven't noticed anything, but then I wasn't really _looking_ for anything." Seeing that John needed some sort of answer, she continued. "Maybe what you're sensing is just what most people feel when confronted with something new: it's strange, so you get suspicious or afraid. It's your brain putting you on alert, just in case."

"Or it's just me being way too hyper-vigilant. After Nash…," Damn-it, John didn't want to go there, not now, not ever. That man wasn't going to taint everything he did.

Lydia, concerned by the reference, was quick to reassure him. "If you think something's there, John, then trust your own instincts. Simple as that." She gave him a gentle squeeze on the arm as encouragement.

As much as he wanted to let it be, John couldn't. He pulled McKay aside, explained himself and asked him to run a few scans. Rodney did, came up with nothing, and promptly chewed Sheppard out for being a paranoid military man who couldn't sit back and, well, smell the roses, especially since this was a planet where he could do just that. Sheppard then decided to chock it up to the fact that Pegasus worlds, no matter how Earth-like, were different from home in many ways. He'd realize later that he should never have ignored his gut.

On entering the village, the team was quickly met by the Mirin, who began to gather in small groups, whispering and pointing. They didn't seem unduly alarmed, however, nor did they appear to have weapons (unlike the Lanteans). Mostly they were curious. What _was_ rather strange was the Mirin's appearance. Although human, some Pegasus peoples had evolved in slightly different ways than 'Earth' humans. Mirin men were very tall, the women only slightly shorter, and most had a hefty build. Everyone had coarse, blackish-brown hair worn short, just covering the ears. Their eye color was unusually light, and their skin, even at a distance, looked odd – too smooth, too thick, and stretched too tight. Perhaps it was because the Mirin were also darkly tanned. A middle-aged man, about six-foot three, along with several younger men who might be aides, warily approached Sheppard. The older man wore a long-sleeved, loose-fitting caftan and leather ankle boots, and had the bearing of a leader. With suspicion glinting hard in his eyes, he introduced himself. "I am Nav, First Brother of the Mirin." (His voice was odd like his appearance, rather high-pitched and grating). "I…we," Nav paused then began again, clearly shocked by the appearance of strangers. "We have not seen off-worlders for many, many years, and did not think we would do so again. Is the Ring of the Ancestors alive once more?" Nav asked, a bit too eagerly in John's opinion. "Have you come to trade? Or for something else…" Nav's gaze was clearly focused on Sheppard's weapons.

Sheppard stepped forward and began his customary, and placatory, greeting. "First Brother Nav, my name is Colonel John Sheppard. We are explorers from very far away. We've come here seeking friendship and hopefully a chance to trade with you. My team-mates," he made a wide gesture towards the others, "are scientists – uh, people with great knowledge, teachers," he added, realizing that Nav didn't know what the term meant. "In addition to trade, we would like to learn about your world, study your animal and plant life, your culture, those sorts of things."

"About the Gate, er Ring – it's still broken. We got here another way, um…" Sheppard decided to just say it, considering there was no other way to explain to the Mirin how they got there. "We travelled here in a _spaceship_. It's how we get around when we can't use the Rings."

The Mirin near Sheppard abruptly stopped talking and directed all of their attention to him. "You can traverse the stars without the Ring?" Nav asked John. "We have heard of such things through our oral histories. It is true, then," he marveled. His fellow Mirin were nodding and speaking in excited, but hushed, tones. They also moved in a little closer to the Lantean group.

"Yeah, it yes," agreed Sheppard, eyeing the villagers a bit apprehensively. Had they not heard of the concept of 'personal space'? "And, First Brother Nav, Dr. McKay here is pretty sure he can get the Gate – that's what we call them – working again."

"Not _pretty sure_, Sheppard. I'm _positive_ I can fix it," corrected Rodney.

"Your visit to our people is momentous, then, Colonel Sheppard! Please, come this way so we can sit and talk – and share a meal." Nav grasped Sheppard's arm while asking three other Mirin to escort the Colonel and the others to one of the communal buildings. His grip was very strong, John thought, and a little creepy. That uneasiness just wasn't going away.

Once the team was out of sight, Nav's demeanor changed completely. His personality was no longer that of a cordial and welcoming official. In a cold and sinister voice, he spoke quickly and quietly to the large group of Mirin that had not accompanied Sheppard. "Four of you will go, now, to locate their flying ship and then keep it under observation. Do not guard it overtly, as they will most likely return to it to collect belongings for their studies. But later, if they attempt to escape us, do not let them leave or your lives will be forfeit. Those of you remaining here," Nav continued, "will communicate to our Brothers and Sisters that the strangers are to be treated with kindness and respect until they no longer serve our purposes. No harm can come to Dr. McKay until he has fully restored the Ring. We have waited too many years since it was sabotaged to lose a chance to escape this world. As for the soldiers…the leader, Sheppard, will tell us much, whether he wishes to or not. I sense he is very intelligent and highly skilled. He could be a dangerous adversary if he is not well-controlled. I also sense his attraction to the red-haired female; we can exploit that weakness to our advantage. I am not yet certain, but I feel the others may be of little importance. When the time comes, they can be incorporated, or disposed of as we did the other humans in the Time of Our Beginning."

"Do not fail me in your tasks. We cannot risk betraying our true selves, or our ultimate goals. We must maintain our charade for just a little while longer."

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 000000000000000000000

_**The Mirin village, mid-afternoon of the same day…**_

Sheppard and his colleagues had thus far spent a productive day. The Mirin had provided a tasty meal of vegetables and something like rare steak, and were happy to talk about many things with the expedition. They did seem to be trying a bit too hard to please, though. Two young Mirin had escorted McKay to the Gate and had even carried his equipment for him without being asked. Nav had also offered men to help the scientists transport their gear to the village, but Sheppard politely declined. (No need to let them know about an invisible spaceship. He hadn't wanted to tell them about the Jumper at all, in the first place.) Once they had everything they needed, Lydia, Dr. Sanchez (the entomologist), and Dr. Klein (the botanist) headed out across the village and countryside to get to work. Sheppard, despite his promise to be helpful to Lydia, found himself obliged to stay and 'talk business' with Nav and the other leaders.

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000

Sheppard was standing outside the Mirin equivalent of a town hall, taking a break from the seemingly tireless Nav. It had been a few hours before he'd found a chance to politely excuse himself and get a breath of fresh air. He was enjoying the shade of the building's porch as he stretched his legs when he glimpsed one of the scientists out of the corner of his eye, lurking under a nearby tree.

"Colonel, Colonel Sheppard, do you…?, uh, I need to speak with you, Sir," Dr. George Sanchez called to him. John swore he was about to go 'psssttt.'

John mumbled a 'pardon me' to the handful of Mirin who were also relaxing outside. Puzzled, he answered Sanchez. "What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"I'd like to show you something, Colonel." Glancing over at the group of Mirin, Sanchez suddenly put a pleasant smile on his face. "Uh, I've found something quite interesting, scientifically." He quickly added, "I think it might be of Ancient design."

"Oh, well, that _is_ interesting." Turning back to his hosts, John said, "Will you excuse me for a moment?" He didn't notice Nav's eyes sharply following him as he strolled over to Sanchez.

Once out of view of the Mirin, the scientist practically dragged John towards a bulky knapsack. "What's up, Doc?" John said, and then cringed at the old joke. He quickly grew serious when he saw that Sanchez was in no way amused. In fact, the man looked downright terrified.

"Look at this, Sir." The doctor surreptitiously pulled a cloth-covered bundle from his bag. Unwrapping it, he revealed several curved objects. In size and shape, they looked like very large shards of broken pottery. They were all a dark, shiny green-black, had sharp edges, and looked like they were made of a hard substance. Each piece was about 1 inch thick. Reaching out to touch one, John was surprised to find that it felt like the shell of lobster, but much, much stronger.

"What are they, Sanchez? These sure don't look like Ancient artifacts."

"That's because they're _not_, Colonel; I just had to get you away from _them_. Come here." He drew them even further away from the building, near some tall shrubs. "I thought there was something wrong with this place, but now I know I'm right. These are chitinous, Sir."

"What? In English, please, Doctor?"

"Chitinous, uh, part of an exoskeleton." He explained further as John clearly still didn't understand. "I think they're pieces of exoskeleton, which is the hard carapace – outer covering – of an insect, most likely one in the same classification as beetles."

John had forgotten that Sanchez was an entomologist. Suddenly, he didn't feel very well.

"Uh, where did you find these, Doctor?"

"A short distance from the settlement, in what looks like a communal garbage pit."

"You've been digging around in trash?"

"It's an excellent place to study insects – all of the rotting food, decomposing animal matter, human waste, and….."

"Alright, alright, I get the picture, Doctor," said John, grimacing. "So, what do you think these things are? I mean, where do you think they came from? Besides the garbage pit."

"It's theirs."

"Whose?" Sanchez was being way too cryptic.

"The Mirin's. Discarded body parts. Probably from moulting." He drew a breath and shuddered. "Colonel, I think they're giant insects that only _look_ human, that are pretending to be like us. Or they're humans that've mutated into bugs." His voice was trembling.

"Oh, come on," John scoffed. "Maybe this," pointing at the pieces of 'exoskeleton', "is just from something…really big…that they, ugghhh, eat. People have been known to eat bugs, Doctor, like in Asia or Africa."

"No, Sir," Sanchez was going pale. "It's Mirin."

Sanchez wasn't buying his theory and, frankly, neither was Sheppard. Lydia was right; he should have trusted his instincts in the first place.

Ice started seeping through his chest. "OK, George. What do you want me to do?"

The doctor's response was simple. "Leave. Run. Hide. Now."

John agreed. In a low tone he said, "Listen, Doc, I want you to put this stuff back in your knapsack and walk away, _slowly and_ _normally_, and find Dr. McKenzie and Dr. Klein. You do know where they're working?" Sanchez nodded. "And they have Marines with them, right?" Another nod. "OK, get going. And, uh, just try and hold it together, OK? You figured out what's going on here and we're going to leave before anything bad happens. Just try not to panic."

"What about Dr. McKay?"

Crap. John had forgotten that he was all the way over at the Gate. And with two Mirin 'helpers.' "We'll get Rodney on the way. I'll radio to give him a heads-up. The Gate isn't too far from where we left the Jumper. Now, get going."

Dr. Sanchez left, tightly clutching his bag and walking too fast. Shit, John thought. What had they gotten themselves into this time?

Taking a steadying breath and trying to make his face look as normal and agreeable as possible, John turned to head back into the building. He practically jumped in fright when he saw three Mirin standing, and staring, several yards away from him.

"Is there a problem, Colonel Sheppard?" asked one of them.

"Uh, no, not at all. Dr. Sanchez just had something to show, uh,…to discuss with me."

"A relic from the time of the Ancestors, did he not say?" Nav commented. He had now joined the others on the porch.

"Yeah, we're always finding some sort of artifact when we're out exploring. He's a scientist, so he was really excited to show it to me."

"And where has he gone now?" Nav pressed.

Jeez, was Nav onto them? "The Doc thinks it's important enough to show the others. I think he's right, so I'm going to head on over there with him."

"Of course, Colonel, please do so. We have monopolized so much of your time already. I am certain you must have other matters to attend to. You are all welcome to partake of the evening meal with us later, if you wish."

Nav and the other Mirin looked on calmly. Maybe he was going to get out of Dodge in one piece, thought Sheppard.

"Yes, uh, thanks, maybe we will." With what he hoped wasn't a completely phony smile, John left.

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 000000000000000000000

He found the others, minus McKay, in a large clearing about ½ a mile away. George hadn't fallen apart yet, but he was scared, as were the other scientists. John moved quickly to Lydia.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, we're fine. A little freaked out over Dr. Sanchez's news, but, uh…"

"Yup, it's never dull in the Pegasus galaxy," John quipped, trying to ease the tension a bit.

He then ordered, "I want you all to leave behind your scientific equipment, samples, everything except basic survival gear and supplies. We need to travel light and move fast. It's half an hour at a normal walk to the Jumper. Let's cut that in half."

They were on their way in minutes. The terrain they had covered walking to the village that morning was mostly made up of grassy meadows, so unfortunately there was little cover to protect them. The civilians were stumbling a bit, having trouble keeping up the pace. "You're doing great, everybody," encouraged Sheppard. "We're making good progress, we'll pick up McKay in a minute and then…"

And that's when he heard it.

FFFwwhummpphh. FFFwwhummpphh.

And smelled it. An acrid, offensive stench that burned his eyes and nostrils and made his skin crawl.

FFFwwhummpphh. FFFwwhummpphh. FFFwwhummpphh. Louder, closer.

"John, what _is_ that?" Lydia suddenly cried out, pointing above and beyond their position.

Sheppard looked up to see a large cloud of gas or mist sinking down upon them, dark and ominous looking. Searching around for the source, he…

**FFFwwhummpphh.**

Oh, god.

The Mirin could fly.

_**TBC…**_


	3. Chapter 3 - Terror Unmasked

**Unseen Enemy**

**Chapter 3 – Terror Unmasked**

_(Fun fact: Scientists believe that currently the Earth supports approximately 900 thousand species of insects._

_This amounts to about 10 quintillion [10 followed by 18 zeroes] __**individual bugs**__ alive today.)_

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 00000000000000000000000000

_**Under attack…**_

"The tree line! Head for the tree line!" shouted Sheppard. "Fischer, Fischer, take the docs!" he cried, ordering one of the Marines to cover the scientists before they could panic and scatter in all directions. "Kurtz, Doherty, strafing fire!" he yelled at the remaining two soldiers. John's eyes were stinging from the toxic mist, but he could still make out the horror that was attacking them. Dropping into a crouch, adrenaline surging through his body, Sheppard grabbed his rifle and shot at anything that moved above. Which was a lot. There were at least a dozen of the things and it took all of his mental and physical strength to keep firing and not freeze up in amazement, shock, or downright fear. The Mirin in their true form were terrifying. They had hard, green-black bodies with a soft, dirty yellow-colored underbelly that was partially protected by their exoskeleton. (Damn Dr. Sanchez for adding that word to John's vocabulary.) For appendages, what would have been two arms and two legs were now revealed as multi-jointed insect limbs which ended in bizarrely mutated fingers and toes which were incredibly sharp, like talons. Enormous translucent wings created a shimmering blur and a thunderous sound as the Mirin flew faster and faster. (The wings most likely were the reason for the villagers' hefty build and long, loose-fitting clothing.) The Mirin had insect-like heads which were weirdly topped with human hair through which antennae sprouted. Their faces had rudimentary noses and mouths, and creepily incongruous eyes that looked human and were still the unusual Mirin color, but now also had a silvery cast. And hanging off of each creature were thick, sickening flaps of skin, flesh which had split open as the Mirin, however they did it, metamorphosed from 'human' into John's worst nightmare.

Sheppard fired round after round as he alternated between running after his team towards the trees and dropping down to shoot at their winged pursuers. Several plummeted to the ground, wounded or dead, but their hard bodies were proving difficult to pierce. John knew he was using up ammo way too fast, but there were just so many of them. If his people could make it to the forest perhaps the canopy of tree tops would slow the Mirin down and give the Lanteans a chance to get away – or at least let them re-group and formulate a defense. He shoved another clip into his gun, and then realized he only had one more in his vest. Deciding he should try and save his remaining bullets for whatever stand they might make, he fired off a few more rounds then ran for his life. The Mirin were releasing more of the acrid, burning mist as the attack went on, and John was finding it harder and harder to see and breathe. His team as they ran ahead of him was barely more than a moving blur. Had they made it to the trees?! He heard a scream off to his left and another some distance away. Suddenly, the body of one of the Marines fell from the sky only yards in front of Sheppard, his uniform shredded and soaked in blood. John heard the heavy thrum of wings behind him and turned to fire, but instead took a jarring blow which sent him to the ground, stunned, and which knocked his weapon from his hands. As he tried to get up, a searing pain tore across his back as he took another hard hit which drove him face down into the dirt. He pushed himself to his knees but was quickly pinned by the Mirin's incredible strength. Dazed, bleeding heavily, and choking on the poisonous fumes, Sheppard struggled feebly until unconsciousness claimed him.

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000

_**A few hours later…**_

John awoke coughing, coughing hard. His chest ached, his eyes stung, and his back felt like it was on fire. He tried to sit up, desperate for air and water, but hands gently pushed him back down. Cracking open his blurry eyes he could just make out McKay and Lydia looking down at him. "Don't move around, John," Lydia said softly. "Your back is badly gashed. We've bandaged it the best we could. And you've got a pretty good cut on your forehead, too."

"Lydia, are you OK? Rodney?" John frantically asked. "I didn't know if you, if anybody…" He started hacking again and spitting up phlegm.

"We're OK, John, we're OK," Lydia soothed, holding his hand and steadying him while he coughed.

"D'ya have some water?" John croaked. "My eyes, my throat, Christ, they hurt." Lydia gave him a few sips from her canteen, gently bracing his head as he labored to swallow.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Uh, help me up, OK?"

"John, I don't think you…" protested Lydia, but John was ignoring her. Mindful of his wounds, she and McKay helped him gingerly rest against a wall.

"Dab this on your eyes, it'll relieve the stinging," Lydia said, offering him a wet cloth.

John took it eagerly and then asked, "How long was I out, and where the hell are we? Is everybody else OK?" His voice was husky from the poisonous fumes and he could barely talk. He started to cough yet again and grabbed for the water.

McKay answered him. "You were out a couple of hours, and we're in a very filthy barn. And, uh…," he was suddenly solemn. "The two Marines, Doherty and Fischer. They're dead." Rodney took a shaky breath. "Dr. Klein, one of those bugs grabbed at her, really wrenched her arm and broke it in two places, we think. Sanchez fell and got a few scrapes on his knees. And the young lieutenant, uh, uh, oh, Jeez, I can never remember their names, uh…" McKay was talking too fast.

"Lt. Kurtz, Rodney," John quietly prompted. He was concerned at how shaken his friend was.

"Yeah, that's right, Kurtz." As John stared at him, Rodney realized he'd forgotten to answer the question. "John, he's in bad shape. He's got some deep gashes on his right arm and shoulder and on his left thigh. We've got him patched up, but there was a _lot_ of blood loss." Pausing, McKay added, "Dr. McKenzie and I, we're bruised and battered but pretty much in one piece." John worriedly looked at Lydia. Her face was dirty, her pretty hair a mess, and he could see small stains of blood oozing from tears in her jacket and pants. Other than that, she did look alright, but he knew she was frightened. He had felt her hands trembling as she had held his own.

The Mirin had been smart, Sheppard had to admit. It seemed like they had intended to kill all of the soldiers. Except for him. They obviously needed him, and the others, alive for now. And for what?

Suddenly realizing something, John asked, "Rodney, how'd they capture you? You were all the way over at the Gate. If you saw us being attacked, why didn't you run for the Jumper and try and get away, help us blast those things out of the sky? The ship isn't too far from the Gate."

"I didn't see or hear anything that was happening to you guys. I was just working on the DHD – which is really messed up, by the way – when those two Mirin, without a word, suddenly grabbed me and started dragging me over here," Rodney answered indignantly.

"But how'd the Mirin know they should hold onto you, that we were making a run for it?" John wondered. "We were maybe a mile away."

"Pheromones. It was probably pheromones." Dr. Sanchez offered, walking over from where he had been sitting with Dr. Klein.

"What about pheromones, Sanchez?" John asked. As much as he hated the entomologist's field of study, the Doctor's expertise could prove to be incredibly valuable.

"It's how insects communicate. Pheromones are airborne chemical messages that say things like, 'here's a good source of food, come and get it,' or 'danger, there are enemies nearby,' or 'hey, I want to mate with you.' Humans produce pheromones, too, but they're much less powerful than the insect versions."

"Hmm, interesting. Sounds almost as good as a walkie-talkie." John then started to pull himself up on his feet, intent on exploring the barn. Despite protests from McKay and Lydia, he haltingly made his way around, occasionally having to hold onto a wall for support. Like its Earth equivalent, the Mirin building was dirty, dusty, and smelled like animals. A wooden ladder led up to a loft where bales of something that looked like hay were being stored. From what John could see, the structure looked strong and well-made. He could see no sign of farm tools or equipment which could help them escape.

"What's their security look like?" he asked Rodney.

"Formidable," said McKay gloomily. "A couple Mirin at the entrance and a few along the outside of each wall."

"What about the roof?" If it was like the ones back home, this barn would have a door on the loft level through which hay bales and other objects could be brought in or out using a pulley system.

"Uh, I hadn't thought of that. What have you got in mind, Sheppard?"

"Nothing yet, Rodney, just tryin' to figure things out, get a sense of any advantages we may have. Have they said anything yet, talked to any of you?"

"No," replied Lydia. "After we were attacked, some Mirin that hadn't…..changed, they came and took us back here." She added nervously, "I think they've been waiting for you to wake up. They made sure we had water and first-aid supplies _especially_ to take care of you."

Great, thought John. He really wanted to be the focus of attention for a horde of flying mutant bug people straight out of a bad 1950's drive-in movie. All he needed now was the giant tub of popcorn and a couple of Cokes.

Then, as if on cue, the doors to the barn creakily swung open.

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 000000000000000000000000000

Everyone turned around as Nav, accompanied by several of his aides, swept into room. Gone was the genial host; he no longer had any need to maintain the pretense.

"Colonel Sheppard, I am pleased you are awake and able to see and walk." Wasting no time, Nav added, "You," gesturing to a group of three Mirin, "bind him and take him now to the room we have prepared." Alarmed, Sheppard backed away while McKay, Lydia and Sanchez moved in protectively. "Two more of you will escort Dr. McKay back to the Ring of the Ancestors so that he may complete his work. It must be restored to what it was before."

"Whoa, whoa, let's hold on for a moment, OK?" John cajoled as the Mirin went to grab him. "Nav, why don't we talk about this first, huh? What's going on here? I mean, yeah, we were leaving without saying goodbye, but can you blame us? You didn't tell us what, er, who you are, and well, it freaked us out a little bit. Bugs are a _way, way_ lot smaller on our planet. So why don't we just sit down and…"

Nav interrupted him brusquely. "Now that you have seen our true form, we cannot let you go. We have been trapped here for decades, but once the Ring is fixed we will finally be able to leave. And you, Colonel, and your friends, will provide critical information that we need to achieve our goals."

"You killed two of my people, Nav. I need a _much better_ explanation of what the hell you're up to and what you want from us." John was determined to get answers, especially since the Mirin were going to tie him up, drag him away, and most likely torture him.

Nav then gave a slight smile. "Very well, we will sit," he conceded and motioned to some rough benches. "You are an intelligent man, Sheppard. Tell me what you think is going on."

"Uh," Sheppard started awkwardly, not expecting Nav to throw the ball back at him. But then, he decided to ask a question of his own. He couldn't understand why he hadn't asked it earlier. "Why have you been trapped here all these years, Brother Nav? How did the Gate get broken? Because Dr. McKay tells me he thinks the damage was done intentionally." McKay started to speak but Sheppard stopped him with a glare. Rodney had actually told him no such thing, but the inkling of an idea was forming in John's mind and he wanted to run with it.

Getting no answer, Sheppard continued. "From what we know about the Mirin, they're good people. And that's the operative word, Nav, PEOPLE. What happened to them? We know they were active traders until about 60 years ago, when apparently the Gate stopped working. Did you come here then and attack them, kill them? Did the real Mirin population flee somewhere through the Gate and then sabotage it to keep you from following? What the hell happened!?"

He wasn't prepared for the answer he got. "The Mirin _do_ stand before you, Colonel Sheppard. What you refer to as the 'real' Mirin ceased to exist years ago. We are the Mirin now, evolved into a new form."

"What? No, that can't be…you killed them off and you're pretending to be them, right?" But John wasn't sounding too sure of himself. He looked at his friends and saw that Sanchez was staring at Nav in a disturbing mixture of fascination and fear.

"No. Look at this insect, Colonel." Sheppard was startled to see a beetle-like bug land on Nav's hand as if it was a trained pet.

"This has been our form for countless millennia. But when we arrived here – perhaps carried accidentally by a trader –something began to happen, something _completely_ unknown to us. As tiny creatures we thrived on the abundant plant and animal life that grows here. We stung and bit the humans, as do most insects. The Mirin unintentionally ingested us, when eating the crops and animals. For some reason, our presence in the bodies of human Mirin…it began to change them. And very quickly, perhaps in less than 100 years, most of the population was altered. The humans who had not changed were soon being controlled by those who had. They were imprisoned so we would not be betrayed to visitors who came through the Ring."

"But c'mon, people who knew the Mirin, they would've noticed they were turning into giant bugs!" exclaimed Rodney incredulously.

Nav smiled patiently. "Our external appearance is basically what the original Mirin looked like, just a bit heavier and with a darker complexion. I _am_ First Brother Nav, Dr. McKay, just in a mutated body. Before the Ring was damaged, if someone inquired after a Mirin who was still human, they were told the person had moved away to another world, or had died. If we were not believed, then…we dealt with it."

John didn't need to ask what he meant by that. "So, I was right, in a way," he said quietly. "The Mirin did sabotage the Gate to keep you from leaving, but…I'm guessing when they did that, they trapped themselves here, too. Sealed their own fate."

Nav's reply sickened him. "Those humans who remained behind were either converted and added to our collective community, or were killed and consumed for nourishment."

At that, Lydia gave a cry of "Oh, my God!" and Rodney turned away, looking like he was about to throw up.

As Sheppard stood there, momentarily left speechless, Dr. Sanchez took that opportunity to directly address Nav.

"If I understand you correctly," the entomologist began, crossing his arms tightly across his chest and staring sharply at their captor, "your species currently exists in two forms – Mirin and that beetle." Nav nodded 'yes.' "So," continued Sanchez, "do you want to stay that way – existing as two races – or have your entire species evolve into this bizarre human – insect hybrid?"

"You study my kind, Doctor, so you know that as insects we exist in the millions. But what impact do we have, what influence beyond helping plants and humans thrive? Which is essential, of course. But, for the most part we are ignored and taken for granted. Or killed by poisons if we are not wanted on human lands. For all our numbers, we wield so little power and are incredibly vulnerable. Creatures like this," Nav said, gazing at the beetle on his hand, "live for months, days, minutes, and accomplish virtually nothing. Why would l want to live that way again?"

"In our human form, we do not merely exist – we are _**sentient!**_ We can do what any of you can: Live a long life. Experience emotion. Have a true ability to taste, touch, smell, hear and see. Indulge our creativity and curiosity. Adapt the environment to suit our needs. Resist the forces of natures rather than succumb to them. Defend ourselves against enemies. Wage war. Accumulate riches…"

"And power," Sanchez said stonily.

"Yes, Doctor. _Especially_ power." Nav deeply relished the words as he spoke them.

"You're also driven, aren't you, to propagate your own kind?" Sanchez's anger was palpable. "Mindless of the expense to others, the damage and destruction you may cause, swarming, destroying, devouring, all in the name of basic survival. It's a biological imperative of all creatures, of course, to live, but with insects it can get particularly nasty."

Everything was terrifyingly falling into place. John turned to ask Nav one final question. "So that's why the Mirin made sure you could never leave. They wanted to stop you from invading the galaxy like some garden pest. But there's something I still don't understand, Nav. How are you gonna do it? I mean, from what I can see, there's only about 300 of you. It'll take an awfully long time to breed enough bug people to conquer the entire galaxy. Or will those beetles start infecting humans again?"

"Let me show you, Sheppard." Rising from his seat, Nav walked over to Dr. Klein who was sitting against a wall, cradling her broken arm. In an instant, he grabbed the scientist by the throat, yanked her up, and pinned her hard against the wall. John and the others frantically moved to stop him but were quickly overpowered. Then, to their horror, out of Nav's mouth came a very long, thin, and flexible tubular structure with an extremely sharp tip. It resembled what butterflies use to feed on the nectar of flowers, but a million times bigger. As Dr. Klein struggled in terror, Nav plunged it into her chest. She remained impaled upon it for no more than a minute, and then was thrown to the ground. As Nav loomed above her, the tube retracted, dripping with a vile smelling, thick green liquid. Lying in the dirt, the young woman whimpered just for a moment, and then went ominously still, barely breathing or moving.

"_This_ is how we will propagate ourselves, Colonel. By tomorrow, she will have started to change. In less than a week, she will be like us. Irreversibly."

"Now, if you have no other questions….?" And with that, Nav motioned to his men to take Sheppard away. He tried to fight but the Mirin were just too strong, and soon his hands were painfully wrenched behind his back. "There is much you can tell us about what lies beyond this world, Sheppard," Nav whispered, his breath hot in John's ear. "Including where you, and your flying ship, are from. No matter how hard you fight us, we will ultimately win."

_**TBC…I know this was long, but I hope it was worth it! Sort of like how the Iratus bug evolved into the Wraith, but in reverse. Please read and review!**_


	4. Chapter 4 - Striking Back

**Unseen Enemy**

**Chapter 4 – Striking Back**

_**John and Nav…**_

It went without saying that Lt. Colonel John Sheppard did not like being tied up. Especially not by mutant bug people. For the umpteenth time since he had arrived in the Pegasus galaxy, John quashed down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him and steeled himself for the torture that surely lay ahead.

John was being held inside the communal building where just a few hours ago they had enjoyed lunch with the Mirin. He was sitting on the floor in the dirt, leaning against a wall. They had done a good job of trussing him up. His wrists were tied behind him, and more thick rope restrained his arms against his sides. His ankles were bound as well as his upper legs. The bonds were strong and dug deep into his ravaged back, tearing at his wounds. It was extremely painful and John could feel the gashes start to bleed again.

If there was one common denominator for all of the bad guys Sheppard had encountered over the years, it was a flair for the dramatic. Brother Nav was no exception. Once his prisoner was under control, Nav entered the room silently. From outside, John could hear the clang of metal as a heavy lock was turned and an iron bar was braced across the door, effectively sealing them all in. Once inside, Nav walked over to John. As he towered above him, he withdrew a small glass vial from his pocket and removed its stopper. From what Sheppard could see, the liquid was clear and he detected a sweet odor of flowers or fruit.

"This substance is produced by our bodies, in a gland here," Nav said, pointing at his neck just under his jaw. "It is used to disable, or kill, our prey. During the Time of Our Beginning, when humans who had not changed still lived among us, we used this to control them, punish them. In the right amounts, it causes unimaginable agony for a few hours, but is not fatal – at least not immediately."

Then, to John's horror, once again from Nav's mouth came the deadly structure – the proboscis, he had finally remembered it was called – that he had used to stab poor Dr. Klein. Nav dipped it in the vial and drew up the liquid in a surreal impersonation of a person drinking a soda. Then, so he could continue to speak, the proboscis retracted back down his throat.

"I can give you this for days, Sheppard. Pain seemingly without end. Unless you tell me all that I wish to know. Unless you convince Dr. McKay to restore the Ring. Unless you yield to us completely." Nav then ordered two Mirin to pull John up off of the floor.

If there was ever a time Sheppard _really_ needed to think on his feet, this was it.

Desperate to avoid what Nav wanted to do to him, John made a last-ditch effort to save himself and what was left of his team. If he could convince the Mirin leader of the futility of his plan, then maybe, _maybe_, Nav would let them go.

"Uh, just hold on a second, just wait a minute. Before you, uh, you know…let's get some things straight, OK?"

Nav, in his arrogance, decided to indulge the human one last time. "What do you wish to say, Sheppard?" he said in exasperation.

"You want us to fix the gate for you so you can leave, right? You want me and my friends to tell you all kinds of things that will help you take over the galaxy. Well, ya know, we're not going to help you do that, Nav."

"Not willingly, Sheppard," leered Nav, "But you will eventually."

"You don't have time to wait for 'eventually'. You and I are both smart, er, 'men', Nav. You should know that _EVENTUALLY_ the people of our world are going to miss us. You don't think we go exploring all by ourselves, do you?"

"We will lie in wait for your rescuers, Sheppard! We will attack them and try again to get what we need!"

"That's not going to work, Nav. My people will just keep sending more and more help."

"We will convert you, acquire your knowledge and abilities, and fix the Ring ourselves!"

Nav just wasn't getting it, was he? thought John "That won't work either. You said yourself that it takes a few days to convert a human into a bug. Our people will have sent lots more soldiers – with weapons and more flying ships – by that time."

"So, here's the thing: My friends and I, well, you _can_ torture us, threaten to change us into bugs. But we're not going to fix anything or tell you anything as long as it's in our power to fight you."

"You have to understand something," Sheppard continued. "In your lust for power, because you're so driven by your egotistical ambitions, you made a fatal mistake. You let us find out about you before the Gate was repaired. If we had never learned what you truly are, if we'd fixed the Gate and gone back home, then you could have left this planet. You could've started your invasion without us any the wiser. You know how we figured you out? Not by any slip of the tongue, not because you didn't look human enough. It was because we dug through your trash! Dr. Sanchez, _our expert on bugs,_ found pieces of exoskeleton, your outer shell, in your garbage pit. If you didn't want us to find out about you, all you had to do was tidy this place up!"

"You can't win, Nav. Because like Dr. Sanchez said, all creatures have a biological imperative to survive. Humans are pretty damn good at it, too. To the utmost of our ability, even if we have to die to stop you, we will not let you leave this planet."

Sheppard looked at Nav. He was furious. Decades and decades of anger and frustration were boiling over as he took in Sheppard's words. But the Mirin would not yet concede defeat.

"I will still torture you, John, and all of your friends. I will use what time is left before your people come to save you. It is true that you may successfully resist and thwart us in our plans. But at least I will have had the satisfaction of taking my revenge upon you."

With that, Nav opened his mouth and plunged the poison into the neck of his helpless victim. Sheppard couldn't help but cry out as an excruciating pain like he had never known before ripped him apart.

_**Lydia and George…**_

Lt. Kurtz had just died.

Lydia and Dr. Sanchez were now on their own in the barn. The Mirin were outside, guarding them. Dr. Klein had been taken away to face her tragic fate. McKay was back at the Stargate, hopefully trying to stall for time and delay making the repairs to the DHD device. And Sheppard…Lydia didn't want to think about what the Mirin were doing to him.

They had heard him screaming from across the courtyard.

"George, please stop pacing, you're just going to wear yourself out," Lydia implored. She was exhausted and close to tears, and Dr. Sanchez was not helping.

"Well, you're not the _entomologist_ who didn't notice that we were surrounded by giant bugs!"

"George, I'm an _astrobiologist_ for crying out loud, and I didn't notice them either! Stop kicking yourself. Besides, I'm doing enough of that for the both of us," she sighed. "John told me he felt something was weird about this place. I should have paid more attention."

"Well, it's too late now. And besides, who would have expected any of this to happen, right? The ironic thing is, this experience would make a great journal article, except for the fact that the Mirin are probably going to kill us, and I'll never be able to write it, and of course Atlantis would never let me publish it anyways…" He suddenly grimaced, realizing how horribly insensitive he sounded. "Oh, my god Lydia, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I said that. When I'm stressed, I can't help putting my foot in my mouth."

"We all do that at one time or another, George. C'mon, let's both of us stop agonizing over everything and figure out a way to escape. We can't just wait around for someone to rescue us. Remember, Atlantis gave us 24 hours here before they'd consider us overdue. The 24 hours is up tomorrow morning. Then, it's a 9 hour trip to come and get us. Even if they got worried and decided to leave early, no one will be here until tomorrow afternoon! And," she suddenly realized, "the Mirin could be waiting to ambush them. Then where would we be?"

"What do you have in mind, Lydia?" Sanchez did his best to sound hopeful.

"Remember what John said?" Sanchez looked blank. "The roof, George, the roof. He didn't think they had guards up there, and I don't think they do, either. If we went up into the loft and then…," she stopped talking and went to climb the ladder.

"Lydia, what are you doing?" Sanchez hissed.

"What Sheppard would do, George!" She reached the top of the ladder and stepped onto the wooden floor, praying that the beams wouldn't creak. Like barns on Earth, the second level had a partially open, half-sized door through which you could move things to and from the ground. Mounted on the ceiling, where the roofline came to a point, and centered directly above the door, was a cable and pulley contraption with a large metal hook. Lydia crept over to the door and took a quick look: two Mirin were down below, guarding the large double-door. She then went back to the edge of the loft, gave George an excited 'thumbs-up,' and climbed back down.

"OK, Lydia, assuming we can get down the cable, what do we do about the Mirin guarding this place?" George was both skeptical and intrigued.

Lydia dug into the first-aid kit. "_This_ is what we do, George." In her hands were a small bottle of disinfecting alcohol, some bandages and some matches. "I think the Mirin were so intent on taking away our guns that they barely looked at the other stuff we have."

"OK, so we set a fire. Good…and then what?" George was starting to feel hopeful, for real.

"I saved the best for last!" Lydia whispered excitedly. She went to a far corner of the barn where several bales of hay had partially fallen over. From the spilled straw she withdrew the Mirin equivalent of a pitchfork. "They thought they cleared out anything we could use as a weapon, but they missed this, probably because the bales were burying it."

"It's perfect!" exclaimed George, trying to remember to speak softly. "You saw their anatomy, their thorax – uh – the Mirin's soft underbelly? It's the biggest and most vulnerable part of their bodies. This will run them straight through. Or tear up their wings, at least."

"So," George continued, "what do we do once we've set the place on fire and stabbed the Mirin? Besides the pitchfork and the matches, we don't have anything else to fight with."

"Yes we do. We have John. Nav must be over in that building with him. If we can somehow free John and at the same time take Nav hostage, I think the rest of the Mirin will let us go."

"Uh, that's a pretty ambitious plan, Lydia."

"You got another one?"

"Nope, you're enough of a 'MacGyver' for the both of us. But, uh, Lydia?" George asked, suddenly somber, "What about Kurtz's body?"

"We'll need to leave him behind," she answered sadly." We can't carry him down the cable."

Nodding in quiet understanding, George went over to Kurtz and removed the young man's dog tags. He knew that most likely his body would be lost in the flames.

"Ok, then," Lydia said as calmly as possible. "Let's get going."

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000

Their plan had to work; if it didn't, Lydia could see no other way out. They had been lucky in that three first-aid kits from their gear had survived the attack. So, they had three small bottles of alcohol, three packets of matches, and plenty of gauze bandages. George and Lydia agreed that the best thing to do was pour a trail of alcohol at the front door of the barn and along the ground next to each wall. There was more than enough hay to ensure the fire would catch and spread rapidly. They saved enough alcohol to make two miniature 'Molotov cocktails' and stuffed them with gauze to use as wicks.

It was now or never. They threw down their matches and ran for the ladder. After that, things happened very fast. Shouts rang out from the Mirin. Peering through the loft door, Lydia saw the two guards at the door leave. George went first, grabbing the metal hook and letting his weight on the cable lower him to the ground. Lydia dropped the pitchfork to him as carefully as possible then followed quickly.

Using the cover provided by the billowing smoke, they ran across the courtyard to where Sheppard was imprisoned. Their plan was to set fire to one of the side walls of the building. They had seen that the front entrance was heavily locked; if they attacked the guard directly, and he was the only one with keys, they might not be able to get in. Lydia hoped that John, Nav and any other Mirin with them would be forced outside by the fire.

George lit the two 'Molotov cocktails' and threw them hard. The flames spread rapidly and, as Sheppard's friends had hoped, the guard on duty had to open the door. Nav ran out, followed by two Mirin dragging John, who was bound hand and foot, and looked weak and quite ill. Lydia and George rushed forward, with Sanchez holding the pitchfork like a madman. With all of his strength, he shoved it into Nav who collapsed writhing in pain, his chest skewered.

"I'll kill him, I swear I will!" Sanchez cried. "All I have to do is twist this." He gripped the pitchfork menacingly. "Now, I want you to untie Colonel Sheppard, and bring us our guns and our radios, too."

Nav spoke to Sanchez from where he was lying on the ground. "My Brothers and Sisters are great in number. The Ring of the Ancestors does not yet function. Where can you possibly go where we will not eventually find and recapture you?" The Mirin leader started to laugh.

Sanchez countered, "We're not going anywhere, Nav, but our ship is. You will order your people to bring Dr. McKay to our ship. He will then be allowed to fly it over here and you will let us get on board, and get the hell away from here."

Well played, thought John. He'd make soldiers out of those scientists yet.

But any hope he was feeling evaporated as, suddenly, one of the Mirin lunged toward Lydia and pulled her away, his arm around her neck. Focused on what George was saying, Lydia's attention had drifted just enough for her to be grabbed. John's heart sank at the sight. "Release Brother Nav," the creature demanded, "or she dies."

_**TBC…..**_


	5. Chapter 5 - The Great Escape

**Unseen Enemy**

(Chapter 5 rewritten November 11, 2012. I realized it could have been better than what I posted a few weeks ago: more character development, more details. Same basic ending, though.)

**Chapter 5 – The Great Escape**

As Lydia struggled against the Mirin who could snap her neck in an instant, Sheppard knew he could do nothing except surrender. What he had said earlier to Nav was true. He _was_ willing to sacrifice his life if necessary to stop the Mirin. He was pretty damn sure that, even without asking them, his friends would do the same. But only as a last resort. And only if it were their own choice. Right now, John couldn't make that choice for Lydia. Yes, their plan had failed, but they could come up with another one. As the old phrase went, they wouldn't go down without a fight.

Staring into Lydia's eyes, John saw fear, but a powerful sense of determination as well. She wasn't ready to give up, either. "Do what he says, George," John finally said with painful reluctance. "Back away from him."

Even though he knew Sheppard was right, Sanchez gaped at him for a moment, wordlessly asking, "Are you sure?"

"Do it now, Doctor. That's an order."

With a look at Lydia that said, 'I'm so sorry,' Sanchez released his grip on the pitchfork and raised his hands in submission. He was immediately overpowered by several Mirin who probably would have killed him if Nav hadn't stopped them. He was standing now, supported by two aides while he clutched his wounded chest. Looked disgustingly victorious, Nav gave instructions to his men. "Get us away from this fire and smoke! Bring the prisoners to..." he paused to think, "bring them to where the grain is stored. That building is strong and easily guarded. I will tell you what to do with them then. I do not yet want them to die." He savored those words as he glared malevolently at Sheppard. John noticed that although he looked defiant, Nav's voice was weak and labored. Had he been mortally wounded by Sanchez? John could only hope.

Lydia and George were quickly bound hand and foot like Sheppard. Then, in a frightening display of strength, the Mirin slung the three with ease over their shoulders and carried them away. Upside down, John was too sick and dazed from the poison to notice much more than the ground rolling nauseatingly. He desperately fought the urge to vomit. A door soon opened and he and his friends were thrown hard on the floor amidst several large wooden barrels.

Despite his injuries, Nav knelt next to John's prone body and, grabbing a fistful of hair, yanked his head around. He wanted to see the play of emotions across the human's face as he spoke to him. "You said our people had made a 'fatal mistake,' Sheppard; that we had exposed our true nature to you so sloppily, and without even realizing it."

"You have made a disastrous mistake of your own, John." Nav was pleased to see that, if only for a moment, his captive looked afraid. "The female – Dr. McKenzie. You should never have brought her here. Your attraction to her – what humans would call love, what my kind would call the desire to mate – is so obvious, and so strong, that it is laughable. Once our hand was forced, I knew how easy it would be to exploit that vulnerability to our great advantage. I should have allowed them to kill her just now, if only to see how much it would hurt _you_."

"You will not escape from this place, Sheppard," Nav crowed. "I will make sure of that." He brought forth the dreaded vial of toxin. "I'll give you another chance: do you wish to cooperate?" He wasn't surprised when his captives remained silent. "Very well. For each dose you receive," he threatened, looking at the two men, "she will receive double." As the Mirin guards grabbed each Lantean by the throat, John thought about McKay. He might be their last hope if they were going to survive.

_**Outside the village, at the Stargate…**_

McKay had spent the last few hours at the Gate basically stalling. He was making a show of tapping away on his tablet and moving around broken bits of the DHD, trying to look like he was working. He knew he was running out of time. Even though the two Mirin guarding him really didn't have a clue about what he was doing – for all they knew, it could take days to make the repairs – Rodney knew he couldn't fake them out forever. Nav wasn't that stupid, and McKay wasn't that good at subterfuge.

He was extremely worried about the rest of his team. Being so far outside of the village, he didn't know what was happening to them but he could guess. And he knew that Sheppard, like so many of the other times they had been captured, would most likely bear the brunt of it. What kind of god-awful torture could giant insects inflict upon a person?

McKay was also realizing that, despite his earlier boasts, the DHD was probably beyond repair. The human Mirin had sabotaged it so well that he was almost positive it would never work again. But Nav wouldn't believe that! So what would happen then? The Mirin would torture _him_, that's what. Or they would just hurt his friends more and more, trying to force McKay to fix something that was beyond all hope. What the hell was he going to do? Then it hit him…he'd been slaving away for hours trying to put the DHD back together, when instead he should have been trying to _break it apart._

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000

The toxin worked incredibly fast. John had known what to expect but…the others…it was destroying him to hear them suffer, especially Lydia. She was writhing in pain and sobbing. Sanchez wasn't doing much better. Fighting through his own misery, John did his best to stay near them both, urging them to just keep holding on. They had tried to untie themselves, but the knots were tight and the rope too strong. And even if they had gotten free, they were too sick to stand, let alone fight. It was horrid. Sheppard was starting to doubt that help would ever come.

_**Rodney's plan…**_

When McKay had been brought back to the Gate after everyone had been captured, he'd asked to be taken over to the Jumper as well. Not only did he genuinely need some equipment from it, but he also wanted to see if, somehow, the Mirin had missed anything when they'd searched it. Unfortunately, they had been very thorough and had removed all the guns, knives and other weapons that they had found.

What they _hadn't removed_ were the weapons that didn't look like weapons – namely, a few bricks of C4 plastic explosive.

McKay walked over to the Mirin guards whom he'd nicknamed Dumb and Dumber from that movie – Sheppard's habit of naming things was getting to him. "Uh, guys? I need to get some more supplies from our ship."

The Mirin were starting to become suspicious, however. "You have many items to work with already," said Dumb. "Why do you need more? Keep working – you are wasting time."

"But, I'll end up wasting _more_ time if I can't get what I need from my ship," Rodney whined. "And you know Brother Nav will be angry about that. C'mon guys, I really, really need those supplies. I forgot we brought them with us, and I think I can finally fix the Ring if you'll just let me go get them…?" Please be stupid enough to believe me, Rodney begged silently.

They were and they did. 'Dumber' agreed to walk him over to the Jumper. "Find what you need quickly and return to your task," he ordered and stayed, to Rodney's great relief, outside the ship. As fast as he could, McKay found the C4, a blasting cap and a wireless detonator. He also grabbed some parts from a redundant air circulation system that wasn't critical to the Jumper's functionality. Back at the Gate, he attached to the DHD what he hoped was enough C4 to destroy it (and the two Mirin) but not so much that he'd blow himself up, too. He convinced Dumb and Dumber that the plastic explosive was a special kind of clay that would hold some of the broken pieces together. Sticking in the parts from the air circulation system made it all look very authentic, as far as the Mirin were concerned. Believing McKay's work to be harmless, they left him alone.

Rodney affixed the blasting cap to the C4 and extremely carefully slipped the wireless detonator into his pocket. Then, making the excuse that he needed to pee, and that he had to have _a lot_ of privacy for that, McKay slowly moved away…

Kaboom! The explosion was bigger than he had expected. It knocked him on his ass, but thankfully he had been far enough away and was not really hurt. It had worked! With the Mirin dead and the DHD destroyed, McKay ran to the Jumper. Those damn flying bugs would be no match for the ship's arsenal of drones. He engaged the cloak and headed toward the village, frantically scanning for life signs.

He picked up three signals grouped tightly together in a building at the edge of the settlement. That had to be them! Praying that he wouldn't accidentally target Sheppard and the others, he started to fire on the Mirin. What followed looked like a gory sci-fi video game. McKay would admit to himself later that he felt like a teenager blowing things out of the sky. Mirin went splattering everywhere, coating the ground and buildings with their body parts and a disgusting ooze of human blood mixed with yellow-green insect innards. After destroying as many of the creatures as he could find, Rodney shot up the fields and woods, just to be safe. Then he set the Jumper down, disengaged the cloak, and rushed to free his friends.

The door to the building was partially open. Holding his P-90 shakily in front of him, McKay slowly approached, expecting something to jump out and attack. But nothing did. The only frightening sight that met him was of his friends, sprawled on the ground, torturously bound, breathing rapidly, and sweating. They were barely conscious. Sanchez…ughh…had vomited. John was nestled closely against Lydia, who seemed to be the most ill. Rodney crept over to John and spoke to his friend, hoping he could hear him. "It's all over, Sheppard, it's OK," McKay whispered. "You're gonna be alright." John's eyes (thank god) fluttered open in reply. McKay cut through the coarse rope as quickly as he could. As John struggled to sit up, he caught a glimpse of the gore-strewn village outside. "Rodney, what the hell…? What happened? Is that the Jumper over there? How did'ya…?" John was too sick to form a coherent thought at the moment.

"It's going to be a classic 'long story,' Sheppard. I'll tell you once we get outta here."

"Nav?"

"Uh, I think he's dead. I mean, there's a glob of something outside that's dressed like him…"

"I'll take your word for it. Now, get me to the Jumper before I throw up, pass out, or do both."

That was sufficient motivation to make Rodney move very fast.

_**Going home…**_

They were finally safe. But their suffering wasn't over yet – John, Lydia and George still faced the long 9-hour journey back home. Nav had been right – the pain was excruciating. The few medical supplies they had left were mostly useless; Tylenol couldn't control the kind of pain they were in. There was a small amount of morphine, however. John gave the bulk of it to Lydia and Sanchez. Rodney protested, but John wouldn't hear it. If, heaven forbid, something went wrong with the Jumper or with Rodney, then Sheppard needed to be as sharp as possible. Being in pain was better than being in a doped-out haze.

John did his best to ignore his own discomfort and focus on Lydia and George. He made a comfortable spot on the floor of the Jumper out of chair cushions and blankets for the two of them. But Sanchez declined. "You and Lydia, you two share it, I'll be alright – just save me a blanket or two." Grateful for his kindness, John carefully lay down beside Lydia and spooned against her back. He reached his left arm over her side and gently but firmly clasped her upper body, giving her comfort and reassurance. She was trying hard not to cry. He wanted to tell her to go ahead and do it anyways, but he knew that she needed to regain some sort of control after everything that had happened. Keeping her composure was a way of fighting back, and fighting through. John knew that all too well himself.

_**Back on Atlantis…**_

John and George were now resting comfortably in the infirmary, immensely grateful for their IVs full of painkillers and anti-nausea meds. Lydia had been given private a room. As soon as Lydia was well enough, Sheppard slipped away from his bed – and Dr. Keller – and went to see her. After making sure she really was going to be ok, John became quiet and just sat there, holding her hand.

"What's wrong, John?" Lydia asked gently.

John didn't know where to start. "I should never have put you in that situation." Guilt had been eating away at him for days.

Lydia had anticipated what he would say. "What situation, John? You didn't assign me to that mission, Mr. Woolsey did."

"But...if I had just gone with my gut instincts, maybe we would have figured things out sooner, gotten out of that place before anyone died… before you got hurt."

And there it was. "John, you can't beat yourself up with 'what ifs'. Some missions are good, some missions are…" her voice trailed off. "And – not that I would _ever_ want this, and I'm not doubting his abilities – if Major Lorne had been in charge instead of you, like he was going to be…things might have gone bad, anyways. The Mirin's charade was very good."

"Yeah, but now, Lydia," John replied, "with you and me, the way things are…" Damn, he was bumbling for words like an awkward teenager.

"John, there are lots of couples out there where one or both of them have jobs that put them at risk. Cops, firemen, soldiers, paramedics. What they do for a living generally doesn't stop them from being together, you know. Granted, they don't get attacked by space aliens every day…"

"I don't want anything to happen to you. Lydia. Especially not the particular kind of nasty things that happen here in Pegasus."

"Hold on Sheppard" She hated to be hard on him, but she had to. "Remember our conversation from the other day? The one where I said that I'd brain anybody who tried to tell me what missions I was allowed to take, how to do my job. Do you want to start doing that now? Because I'm not going to…" Her voice started to rise.

"Whoa, back it up, Lydia! I have no intention of getting in your way or trying to dictate what you can do. After seeing you in action the other day, I'd be crazy to try!" John countered, raising his hands in mock fear.

"Then what do you want to do, John? Because I don't want to leave Atlantis, and I know you don't, either. And, like you said, I chose to come here. We both did."

She was right. John had to face his fears the way he had encouraged Lydia to face her own. He grasped his lover's hand tighter, broke out into his trademark, irresistible grin and said, "How about this: you keep on being the smart, brave, kick-ass woman that you were on that planet and I'll keep on being the handsome guy with the gun – and some brains, too – who'll protect you."

"And who, next time, pays more attention to his gut feelings…" Lydia added.

"Christ, yeah! And," John continued, "if we end up on the same mission, then so be it. But," Despite his smile, John's eyes grew serious, "I reserve the right to worry about you, OK?" He sighed. "We'll make this work. _**I**_ want to make this work."

Lydia met John's green eyes with her own. "Me, too."

0000000000000000000000000000 0000000000000000000000000000 00000000000

Rodney stopped by the infirmary before heading off to his quarters. Sheppard had wanted him to bring some contraband cookies; he was sick of hospital food.

McKay was going on and on about some kind of project when John interrupted him. "You know, Rodney, back on the planet, you promised me you would fix the Gate. In fact, you were absolutely _positive_ you could do it."

"Well, yeah, I did, but if you had seen how wrecked that DHD was you would've…"

"I'm glad you didn't fix it, Rodney. _Very_ glad. In fact, it's probably the only time I've ever wanted you to _fail_ at something."

"Hmmpph!" Rodney said in surprise. "I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. So, on that note, I think I'll just say goodnight."

But John wasn't done with him yet. "Oh, and one other thing, McKay," he added, "before you leave: did you get the Jumper cleaned up yet?"

"What do you mean, 'get it cleaned up'? I work in the _Science_ Department, Sheppard, not the _Housekeeping_ Department."

"Yeah, but you know how it is, Rodney: you come back from a long road trip, the car's all dirty, you got _dead bugs_ squished all over the windshield. I just want to make sure the Jumper gets a nice wash and wax and…."

"You're completely incorrigible, Sheppard, you _do_ know that, right?" As he turned to leave, McKay smiled to himself. His friend was back to normal. Everything was. At least until the next mission.

The end.

_**I hope you enjoyed this story. Please review, I love the encouragement!**_


End file.
